A Professor's Wife
by PagetPaulson
Summary: Agent, writer, professor.


"Any questions?"

A familiar hand shot up in the front row of his class, and Rossi was quick to wave it away. "Anyone besides Mr. Quinto?"

The four eyed student sunk deeper into his seat and slowly removed his hand from the air, hiding it behind the books on his desk.

Watching the blond in the fourth row, Rossi nodded his head. "Yes Ms. Green?"

"What's our time for the final?"

Hearing the bell just outside the lecture hall blare, the author looked down to the paper he had been scribbling on. "Two hours, from eleven to one." Watching them all stand from their seats to leave, Rossi made sure to raise his hand in the air for them to see. "Next class is cancelled, I will be out of town. Come in next Monday and then Friday for the final."

Once all the students were gone, the new professor let out a breath and sat himself down at his desk. It was only his second month and he was already growing tired of his position. An FBI agent, a writer and now a professor, and for some reason he still wasn't satisfied.

"Hello Professor Rossi."

He turned his head at the voice and watched as his wife set her back against the doorway. "Hey," he grinned.

Dangling the brown bag from her fingers, Emily gave the older man a smile. "All alone in this big room?" she asked, standing straight and walking up to his desk. "Do you need some company?"

Rossi watched with a smile as his wife stood at the other end of his desk and set the bag down. "Of course," he nodded, noticing Emily's hands resting against the wood of his desk. "What are you doing here? I thought you had plans with Penelope today."

"I did," the brunette woman agreed, "but we had to end things early because there was an emergency back at work."

"And you decided to bring me lunch?"

Emily's lips curled into a smile. "Well knowing you, you'd be getting hungry about now. And you didn't bring lunch for yourself."

Rossi slowly nodded his head.

"How was your class?"

The sixty year old man let out a groan as his wife rounded the desk. "Ninety-three twenty years old and not a single one can ask an intelligent question. Except for Eddie Quinto," he laughed. "I'm afraid of what's going on in the kid's head."

Emily let her lips slowly curl into a grin as she stepped around her husband's desk chair and set her hands to his shoulders. "Poor baby," the brunette woman purred, massaging Rossi's stiff shoulders underneath his suit jacket. "Do you have another class today?"

Rossi looked down to his watch. "In twenty minutes."

"Too bad you can't come back home with me," the agent whispered, leaning down and pressing her lips to the skin underneath his ear. "We could have the rest of the day to ourselves."

The writer quietly chuckled at the words, letting his wife trail kisses along his skin. "Bella, we'll get caught if you try something."

Frowning, Emily stood straight and pulled her husband's chair back. "Really?" She walked in front of the older man and lifted the hem of her skirt, sitting herself on his lap with a smile. "Hi."

"Hi," he laughed, his hands going to her thighs.

"Oh professor," the ivory woman blushed, sending her husband into a fit of laughter, "what a compromising position. What if someone were to come in and catch us?"

Rossi watched with smiling eyes as his wife set a hand to her heart. "Didn't I just say that?"

Emily slapped at the older man's chest. Leaning back, the brunette woman let her high heel run along the length of her husband's left leg, smiling as she watched him take in a deep breath. "Something the matter, darling?"

"Not at all."

The dark haired woman laughed as her husband dove in and smothered her lips with his. Wrapping her arms around the lothario's neck, Emily pulled back. "I take it you're ok with me bringing you lunch?"

"Can you do it every day?"

Emily hid her snort of laughter by going back in for another kiss. She slid closer to the older man on his lap, her pelvis hitting his belt buckle as Rossi's arms wrapped around her. "Of course I can," she husked, rotating her hips when she knew she was directly above his hard member.

Rossi groaned, quickly glancing behind his wife to where the students entered his room. "What if someone comes in?"

"Hate to break it to you, big boy," she whispered, a hand traveling down Rossi's chest to flatten his tie, "but we're not going to have sex. Can't risk it."

The writer's jaw hit the floor. "You come here and sit on my lap and kiss me and then deny me sex?"

Emily flashed him a grin. "I'm just agreeing with what you said. Someone can easily walk in on us," she shrugged. "We wouldn't want that." When she saw something flash in the older man's eyes, the FBI agent contained her grin. "Would you mind that? If I was straddling you on top of your desk, riding you," she whispered as rotated her hips, "and someone walked in on us?"

Rossi gulped.

Running her hand over her husband's hard member straining against the seam of his pants, the brunette leaned her forehead against his. "If they just came in and started watching us? They didn't say anything, but we'd know they were there, and we'd just keep going? Would that be ok with you?"

The older man caught his wife's hand as it rubbed him through his pants, biting out a curse.

"Agent Prentiss?"

Both brunettes turned to see Strauss standing beside the small stage, a briefcase clenched in the put together woman's hand. "Ma'am," Emily grinned, keeping still in her seat on her husband's lap. "What are you doing at the academy?"

"A meeting," she said, her voice cracking. "May I ask how your vacation is going, Agent Prentiss?"

Emily smiled, leaning her head against her husband's. "Perfectly," she smiled. Looking back to her boss, her hands slid from Rossi's strong chest to his neck, clasping themselves around it. "David and I just got back from Bora Bora two days ago, and I'm back at work tomorrow."

Strauss pasted a professional smile on her face. "Fantastic. Well, I will see you both some other time."

The couple watched the red faced woman make quickly toward the exit. "My God," the writer laughed loudly, hiding his face in his wife's warm neck.

"Well you were right," she blushed, "someone came in and found us."

Rossi immediately nodded his head. "Lucky we weren't naked like we planned," he joked, gesturing to his desk.

Emily let out a laugh and kissed her husband once more, her hands cupping his cheeks. "Meet me at home in two hours?"

"You've got it." He let he slide off his lap and readjust her skirt before walking toward the door. "Emily?"

The agent spun on her heel.

"Are you wearing underwear?"

She smirked, running a hand down her hip before walking out the door.


End file.
